


Wipe the Slate

by serafina20



Series: Inevitable [10]
Category: Prison Break
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-28
Updated: 2011-01-28
Packaged: 2017-10-15 04:44:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/157157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serafina20/pseuds/serafina20
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As Lincoln and LJ's arrival approaches, Mahone is haunted by the sins of his past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wipe the Slate

To Alexander, the given arrival date of Lincoln Burrows and his son loomed like a death sentence. No pun intended. Lincoln Burrows would not be understanding of his presence. Nor would his son. They would not welcome him in their presence. They would not be friendly. They would not approve of his relationship with Michael.

He couldn't predict what Michael would do under twin pressure. He knew his fox was a stubborn man. He also knew that Michael was committed to making this work. One only needed to look at their apartment to see.

In less than two weeks, the space had gone from one bed, a dresser, and a nightstand to bookshelves, a table, and a sofa. And, somehow, it wasn't cluttered. Michael had built the shelves along the wall, near the ceiling, circling the room. They held almost all the books; the puzzles went on shelves Michael built into the closet, and the rest of them went under the bed. The table was pushed into one corner, just large enough for two; the sofa was in the other, the bed along the wall across from it. They'd hung a drape around the bed, hiding it from view when it wasn't in use (which is was. Frequently). Generally, though, one of them took the couch, the other the bed in the evenings when they read or worked on puzzles or word games apart from one another.

In addition to fixing up the apartment, Michael had also been hard at work on the designs for their house. He was constantly asking Alexander for his opinions on it: what shape, how many rooms. Did he like windows? Did they want to share a bathroom or have separate? Two stories or one? Loft, balcony?

Alexander gave what input he could. His preferences, his likes. He couldn't comment on technical details, it being out of his scope. But he could contribute in some ways, and he did what he could.

And yet... he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd never see the house. Never live in it. That in less than two days, he'd be on his way back to the States, forever parted from Michael.

"Hey, I was thinking," Michael said, coming out of the bathroom one morning, two days before the Burrows' arrival. "Wanna take today off and go sailing?"

"You have a boat?"

Michael smiled. "Of course. What's the point of living so near the water without a boat?"

Good point.

He made lunch while Michael locked up the shop. They both changed into swim trunks, rubbed lotion on each other, which almost turned into something more interesting, but Michael broke it off with a blush and a kiss. Then they headed down for the docks.

It was a small boat, just big enough for two people.

"Linc and I usually rent a bigger one when he and LJ are here," Michael said as he untied it from the dock. "That way we can all go out. Although, LJ sometimes takes it out by himself." His hands worked the rigging and tiller confidently, eyes on their surroundings as he steered them out to open sea. "Living with his dad, I think that he needs as much time to himself as possible."

After prison, Alexander thought to himself.

Michael seemed to hear the though, because he gave Alexander a quick smile. "He is still a teenager, of course. Broody. Hormonal. Bad tempered. Lincoln swears this is the last one he raises. Between me and LJ, he's sworn off them forever."

"Don't tell me you were a difficult teenager."

"I wasn't the easiest." His smile turned impish. "At least the way Linc tells it."

"Blasphemy."

Michael laughed.

Alexander smiled. Some of the stress and tension that had been building the last few days melted away. He sat back and allowed Michael to sail them out into the deep blue sea. Wind stroked over his body, occasionally raising goose bumps that were washed away by the warmth of the sun, only to be raised again by splashes of water that came from the side of the boat.

As he did with everything, Michael worked the boat like a master. He knew just how to turn the sail to get the full of the wind. His fingers curled around the rigging in movements that called to Alexander's mind the way hey curled around him. He was beauty personified, and Alexander loved just watching him. The seriousness of Michael's face when he concentrated--the little furrow between his eyes, the way his lower lip extended. The peace on his face when he tilted his head back to the sun. The smile that broke out every so often just from the sheer joy of being on the water. Of being free.

They sailed out for nearly an hour, until they were completely alone, save for the occasional bird that flew overhead or fish that swam by. Everything else was endless ocean and miles of sky.

Michael dropped the sail. The boat bobbed gently with the swells. The air filled with the sound of water lapping against the hull.

He sighed. "This is nice," Alexander said. He leaned back, face to the sun, eyes closed. Drank in the peace, the serenity. Tried to live now, instead of worry what was to come.

"I'm glad you like it." Michael kissed him gently. "I'm going for a swim. Wanna join me?"

"I think I'll stay. Watch you." He opened his eyes under his sunglasses and watched as Michael stripped out of his shirt.

The boat rocked wildly when he jumped out.

Alexander rolled onto his side, one arm hanging out to trail in the water. He watched as Michael swam around, looking as if he belonged in the sea. Michael moved easily in the water, diving underneath the water and coming back up for air like a dolphin. He circled the boat a few times before coming up to where Alexander was lounging.

"Hey," Michael said. He came out of the water and gave Alexander a wet, sloppy kiss.

Alexander wrapped his arm around Michael. Pulled him further up and kissed him deeper.

Michael had incredible upper body strength. He was able to hoist himself halfway up the boat and hold himself there to draw the kiss out. Their mouths moved together lazily, comfortable with one another now. Familiar. They explored each other's mouths languidly, no hurry, no need to rush. They had all the time in the world.

Or, two days anyway.

"What is it?" Michael asked, breaking the kiss. He lowered himself back into the water, but reached out to stroke Alexander's face. "You're so tense. Why?"

"It's nothing."

"It's not nothing. Every day, you get more and more tense." Michael bit his lip. Water rolled down his lip. He licked it away. "Is it because of Lincoln?"

Alexander didn't answer right away.

Michael's face fell. He went lower in the water, arms stretched above him "I haven't told him. About you."

"I didn't expect you would."

"It's more complicated than it being you, Alex. Lincoln doesn't know anything about my sexuality or sexual issues. He, ah. He has a sort of distorted image of me."

Alexander cocked his head and looked at him, waiting for illumination.

Michael blushed and ducked his head under the water. When he rose, he fastened his eyes on the hull. "He, ah. Lincoln thinks I lost my virginity when I was sixteen. And he thinks I slept with a bunch of women when I was in college. He doesn't know that I've ever been with men, either."

"And this is because..."

"I've been lying to him since I was sixteen."

"Why?"

Michael wiped water from his eyes. "Do you have any idea what it's like to be raised by your brother?" he asked. "Linc's been having sex since he was fourteen or fifteen. He's always had girls hanging off his every word. And then there was me. I barely noticed there were two genders. All I saw was... parts of people. Clothes, hair, body shape. How people were put together. I didn't care about what all the differences meant, and I didn't find anyone really attractive. But Lincoln, man. He was always harping on it. I swear, from the moment I became a teenager, all he talked about was sex and girls and me. When he wasn't working, which wasn't often, he'd sit around, drinking and talking about girls. On TV or that we'd see on the street or girls who were in my study groups. And by the end of my junior year, he started expressing concern that I didn't have a girlfriend. That I couldn't care less if I did. It was annoying. So, I told him I slept with a girl I went to junior prom with."

"Did you?"

"I didn't even go to junior prom." Michael gave him a lopsided smile. "Lincoln was working. He didn't know." Michael let go of the boat and treaded water. "Anyway, I graduated from high school early. It wasn't a problem in college, at first, but Linc, you know. He lived off the fantasy. He never got to go to college, so he wanted to live the party life through me. So, I gave it to him." He shrugged. "Made up stories of parties I was going to and women I was sleeping with. I kept on making up the stories until Lincoln and I sort of, uh. Parted way." Guilty flush.

Alexander reached into the water. His fingers lightly skimmed Michael's shoulders. "And you never told him about the men."

"Didn't think he'd understand. He's not bigoted or anything, but, well. I'm..."

"You're his brother," Alexander supplied. "It's different."

"Yeah." He licked his lips. "I don't know how to tell him about you."

He sighed, depression settling over him heavily. "You don't have to if you'd rather not."

"What?" Michael said, startled, gaze snapping up to Alexander's face.

"I can leave."

"But I thought..." He stroked back to the boat and grabbed the side. "You're staying. That was the agreement."

He swallowed, hard. His throat felt like it was closing. "Did we have one?"

"It was an understanding." There was steel in Michael's voice. A reminder that he wasn't some soft, innocent child. He was a grown man with enough guts to face down prison guards, rapists, murderers, FBI agents, and a government conspiracy. "You and me. Forever."

"You don't know me, Michael." His voice trembled.

"I know you." Michael pushed himself out of the water and back into the boat. He rolled onto Alexander. Placing both hands on the sides of Alexander's face, Michael kissed him fiercely. "I know you," he said again, voice cracking. He rested his forehead against Alexander's.

Alexander wrapped his arms around Michael's slim, wet torso. He closed his eyes, feeling Michael's warm breath wash over his face.

"Michael. Do you want to know why I have you on the pedestal I do?"

"Because I'm pretty?"

That got a smile from him. "Besides that." He opened his eyes. "You saved my life. My life, my soul, my integrity. Everything I am. And I thought I could put everything behind me and come and be with you, but I don't think I can. I know your brother is going to get here, and he'll be angry at me and accusing and, you know what? He'll be right."

Michael pushed himself off Alexander. "I don't understand."

He sat up. It hurt to breathe. Hurt to sit. Hurt to just live.

Hands trembling, Alexander reached into his shorts pocket and pulled out the pen he still carried. He felt Michael's eyes on him as he unscrewed it, pour two pills onto his hand, and swallow them down.

"Here," Michael said as Alexander screwed the pen together again.

He looked up.

Michael was holding out a bottle of water.

Alexander took it.

"Anti-anxiety?"

He nodded. Swallowed. "A few years before you broke out of prison, I was chasing another man. Oscar Shales. And he was smart. Brilliant. Not like you, but close. And I was chasing him for some time. Always one step behind, but the chase..." He smiled. Shook his head. "I'd never had a con twist me around like that. And it wasn't until the first body showed up that I remembered what the stakes were. That it wasn't a game, that it was..." He exhaled.

Michael took his hands and squeezed.

"I lost everything to that case. Everything. Not just my friends and family and everyone I loved. I lost my sanity. Every time he killed, I took it personally. It was my fault. I grieved for each one. Punished myself. And then I started seeing the bodies. Seeing him around every corner. Seeing death lurking for me, lurking for everyone. I broke completely. And then... and then I found him." He forced himself to meet Michael's eyes.

Michael was looking at him with that fierce intensity that he had. Every fiber of his being was focused solely on Alexander, taking in and recording every word into his soul. "You killed him."

"Shot him. Point blank range." He shuddered at the memory of rage and insanity that'd been coursing through him then. He'd been nothing but anger. All he was, defined by one emotion, one action, one moment. "I couldn't tell anyone. Couldn't report it to the Bureau, because it was murder in cold blood. So I buried him in my backyard."

"Oh God."

"And I went even more insane until I discovered Midazolam."

Michael frowned. "Isn't that used for surgery?"

"To relieve anxiety before procedures, yes. It works wonderfully to soothe my nerves. I stopped hallucinating. Stopped ripping the heads off everyone around me. Was able to go back to my job and do what I do. Successfully.

"And then you came along."

"And then the conspiracy got to you," Michael said. "The Company."

Alexander nodded. "Not at first. The first few days of the chase... reminded me why I loved my job. Why I went into the job I chose. And you were so... God. I think I fell half in love with you when I realized what this tattoo was." He ran his fingers down Michael's arm. "But then, these men showed up. They knew everything, right down to where I'd buried Shales. They were going to take away everything. My life. My job was my life. The only thing I had. All I had to do was make sure those who'd escaped with you and Lincoln died."

Michael's eyes fell closed. He let out a long, shaky breath. "You killed David. Tweener."

"And made it look like he was trying to escape." He swallowed. "I set Abruzzi up. I hoped he'd come quietly, but I knew he wouldn't. And the rest..."

"Don't," he said harshly. Then, in a softer voice, "I don't need you to go through it all again."

"Thank you," he whispered. He drank more water. "I wouldn't have survived. After I killed the kid, I almost killed myself. There was no way... But I didn't know how to stop. I'd already lost so much, losing my image was impossible. It seemed my only way out with any... semblance of... without having what I'd done exposed was to let people think I'd been driven over the edge by one criminal too many. I just wanted it to end. And then I got your letter." He shrugged. "You had so much faith in me. Faith in a man who was making your life a living hell. But you were convinced that I'd do the right thing. That I was a good man with integrity.

"So I made myself become one. To be the man you thought I was. That I wanted to be again. And because they thought I was sufficiently cowed, they never realized what I was doing. I had over twenty years of investigating experienced. I just did my job. For you."

"And without me..."

"I would have had a closed casket and people would have remembered me in hushed tones." He looked out over the fathomless ocean. Brought one hand up to his eye, wiping underneath.

Silence. Just the wind, the rigging, the water against the hull.

And then Michael, letting out a breath that sounded like a sob. "There's no such thing as an ex-con," he said. "Once you commit an act, it just keeps going. It follows you around and you can never just... get past it."

He pulled his eyes away from the ocean back to Michael.

"I still have nightmares. About Lincoln dying. About things I saw. About what I had to do and what I released on the world. I still think, every day, about going back and turning myself in. And I looked happy, and I am. But it's never going to go away. And it's possible that, one day, something is going to show up on my doorstep to take this all away from me." Michael leaned forward. Took both Alexander's hands in his. "I love you. And the fact is, in the end, you did the right thing. You were the one who exposed the conspiracy and freed Lincoln. I know it doesn't erase what you did, but it's enough for me."

Alexander closed his eyes. He'd always known, deep down, that Michael would forgive him. What was between them ran too deep.

"So you want me to stay?"

Michael crawled onto his lap and kissed him. "You kept me from turning myself in," he whispered. His teeth tugged on Alexander's earlobe. "Why shouldn't I do the same for you?"

He turned his head. Took the kiss Michael planted on him, their teeth knocking together from the haste. "You... How did you know that?"

Michael laughed. "Elementary," he said, kissing Alexander. "I know you met with Lincoln. He insisted that you didn't ask about me once. Ergo, I knew you must have talked only about me. " His arms locked tightly around Alexander's neck. His kiss took Alexander's breath away. "You aren't going to leave, right? You'll hold to our agreement?"

"You and me," Alexander said. "Forever."


End file.
